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wtftarot · 6 months

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How can you navigate your life from here on?

Thank you, @lifeofaie for suggesting this reading, I really loved the idea.

Listen, I fuckin love a good road trip, ok? And navigating on a road trip ain't that different from navigating your life. Great music and shitty snacks. Wrong turns and detours that end up being half the fun and the whole story later. Arriving later than you planned or having plans changed entirely. How it always seems like the more you try to plan and control things the more they go off the rails. What do you need to keep in mind on this road trip called life? (yes I know how dorky that was, nope I don't care, yes all of these are gonna be heavy on road trip metaphors) Consider this reading, stopping and asking a local for directions and I promise not to lead you to the den of a serial killer. What is your inner compass saying? Is it time to make a rest stop? Let's fuck around and find out.

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Pick either the Road Stretching On, The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere, or the Road to Ol' Kentucky and head on to your reading

The Road That Stretches On

The Tower, Seven/ Swords Rx and the Magician on the bottom of the deck.

This reading is HEAVY. Some of y'all who came to this reading are dealing with some heavy mental shit. I am not a mental health professional, please seek one out. Tarot is awesome and helpful but it is not therapy.

Take a breath. I'm so fuckin serious right now. You need to breathe and clear your mind even for a second. Don't ya just love how many people come to readings and then ignore the simplest advice given? To just take a breath? ( I love y'all, but some of y'all need a lil call out every now and then) The reason why I'm pushing y'all to stop and breathe is cause y'all's mind never. fuckin. stops. does it? Never. I had to restart this reading three times, cause I just kept getting wrapped up in y'all's anxiety spiral. And, I know it's hard but if you never make a conscious decision to try and slow down and give yourself a second, it's not gonna happen. Human brains are mostly auto-pilot and if you don't try and take the reins every once in a while it'll just keep doing what it's doing. Y'all are incredibly overwhelmed by making decisions for your future. It's like you see your future like the picture you chose, a road stretching on forever that can lead to anywhere depending on the turns you make but for you there's something that could be lurking in each turn. Something you're not seeing and that is terrifying to you. Now the main contender here looks to be anxiety about the state of the world, climate change, wars, pollution, famine, natural disasters, and on and on. Like y'all seem to be thinking what's the point, everything's going to shit. Listen, I'm gonna try to be gentle but when I tell y'all I'm very passionate about this, I am downplaying so fuckin hard. A lot of people fall into this overwhelm, it's not your fault. Governments and corporations put a shit ton of effort into keeping us feeling overwhelmed, cause overwhelmed people are too drained to put up a real fight. The point of trying is you being happy. That is worth it. The point is you can spread that joy. The point is to make a difference while you can. The point is that yeah, the world may be going to hell in a handbasket and you're just one person but you are a whole ass person. Who doesn't have to take this shit lying down. You want to live your life but are terrified of what might happen if you do. You feel like the world is a scary place and it can be sometimes, but you're so scared of truly stepping into the world, you never let yourself be or do much. It's like y'all are super fuckin excited for the road trip but are so scared of what may be around any turn, you just keep going on the same road letting it take you wherever it does. To get anywhere you want to go you have to make some choices. Yea, they may not always turn out how you planned but here's the thing: You will be okay. What you need to do to navigate your life? I'm sorry, y'all are gonna hate this advice but trust yourself. Sweetie, you are so much more capable than you give yourself credit for, hell you may not have any knowledge of your full capabilities cause you've never let yourself reach them. Tarot readings can help you navigate, but all the readings in the world won't help you get anywhere if you never put your foot on the gas.

random ass vibes: I dunno if y'all forgot to eat but like I've been ravenous this whole reading, The cartoon Roadrunner, venus, tea, sunburn, flowers, 666

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The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere

The Star, the Five/Pentacles Rx and the High Priestess on the bottom of the deck.

Listen, honey. You can handle this. And you know you can. You're listening to your intuition, learning to trust yourself if you don't already. Y'all are navigating your life, you may have rough moments as we all do but y'all are learning to handle those moments with grace. I'm not gonna lie, it took me a minute to figure out why y'all are even at this reading, seems like the topic of this reading ain't something y'all need help with. And it ain't, y'all are killing it in this area. The reason y'all are here? Y'all need some encouragement. Maybe need is the wrong word, cause y'all are doing fuckin awesome either way. Deserve. That's the word. Y'all deserve some encouragement. The road you're on may be unconventional or the people around you very strongly disagree with. Or maybe they just strongly disagree with you, your identity as a person. (I dunno where "strongly disagree" is coming from but it keeps popping up in my head?) I feel like y'all have actively had people put you down and were able to power through and encourage yourselves, so you may not need others to encourage you. BUT we all deserve to be encouraged, just cause you can power through without supportive voices doesn't mean that you should have to. SO GET READY FOR SOME CHANNELED ENCOURAGEMENT MOTHERFUCKER! Y'all have been doing a fuckin amazing job moving away from shitty past situations and are not fucking giving yourselves enough credit. Yes, even if it was "just" some mental blocks. Oh, "just" a mental block are you kidding me? Do you know how hard getting over your own mental bullshit is?? Y'all are over here, learning to parkour over your mental bullshit like a goddamn ninja, acting like it's no big deal. Sweetie, that's huge, you do realize that? To be honest with yourself, call yourself on your bullshit and then do something about it? Step fuckin one of that is daunting. And I'm hearing that y'all were able to get through faster than even your guides were expecting. Honey, how powerful are you? Not only that, but y'all are learning to argue with your self-deprecating thoughts. Asking them, who gives a shit what they have to say? And taking all the energy you used to put into pushing yourself down and using it to build yourself up. That's SO fuckin badass, y'all! Talk about fuckin alchemizing shit. Y'all saw how much time and energy it was taking to keep yourself small and hurt, thought: Wonder what would happen if I used that to build myself up instead? And then you went and did it and ITS FUCKIN GORGIOUS. The blessings are gonna start rolling in with this new energy, but you already knew that. Cause motherfucker YOU are the blessing! Y'all are really embodying your own power and strength and are KICKING ASS. The last message is to let yourself rest, y'all are doing a lot. So give yourself a break, let yourself sleep in a bit later. Set aside time to just chill, you won't lose your progress while you sleep.

random ass vibes: receiving roses, worms, gardening, astronomy designs on clothes, 18, hide and seek

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The Road to Ol' Kentucky

Shout out to all my fellow Kentuckians! How y'all doing?

The Moon Rx, The Queen/Wands, the Page/Cups Rx and the Five/Wands Rx on the back of the deck

Y'all are being called to really embody yourself and your power moving forward. It seems like y'all not only have it in your head that you're a Page when you're a Queen (queen energy, not gender). You're wrong about the whole damn suit. Others may have convinced you you're being sensitive when they're being an asshole and you're pissed about it. (As if letting people talk shit about you is "weak" right?) Y'all think you're the negative aspects of the Cups: Overly emotional, flakey, manipulative, disorganized, and self-centered. When the truth is you're the positive aspects of the Wands: Passionate, creative, driven, confident, and strong-willed. Y'all are really fuckin hard on yourselves, okay? Others may have been intimidated by your strengths and convinced you they were your weaknesses. If y'all have been feeling stuck, this is why, alright? You are stuck cause you've been told that the way to get unstuck IS the reason you're stuck. Think of it like this, y'all are an airplane, convinced by cars that flying is your biggest weakness, trying to figure out why you never seem to get anywhere. Airplanes can roll around, sure but they're MADE to fly. It's time to do some hard thinking, probably back to when you were a kid. What were the things you loved and pursued, how did you pursue them and what bullshit did others say about it? Like, did you get super focused on an activity you were doing, forget about choirs or some shit, and then be called irresponsible and lazy? When you wanted something, were you the type to push and work towards it, then be called stubborn or relentless or annoying when others decided they wanted you to do something else? Because there are some good qualities y'all have that are how you're supposed to show up in the world that you're not letting yourself embody. To be clear, I'm not talking about being told you're acting like an asshole when you were, in fact acting like an asshole. I'm talking about strengths you had that were demonized to you and in an effort to be a better person you stopped using. Now they've atrophied and you've gotta work them out to get them back. Cause, listen the typical way of navigation ain't gonna work for you. Y'all can continue to roll around and try to get where you wanna go, but it's gonna be slow and a billion times harder. You ever seen an airplane trying to go down a road through town? Think a sec on on how hard that would be. Cause that's you, right now. There are no road maps for the sky, ya know? Y'all are charting your own path. You need to stop trying to make yourself follow the road map for life that others are using. It's not gonna work for you, cause it was never meant to. Y'all are on an unconventional path, the only way forward is to embrace it.

random ass vibes: Back To The Future, coffee, night owl, finding your people, reds oranges and yellows, clouds, libra, cats. Thelma and Louise

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#tarot reading #tarot #divination #tarot community #tarot cards #pick a card #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #wtftarot #tarot readings #tarotblr #Spotify

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jyndor · 25 days

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🍉🍉🍉 GIFSETS FOR PALESTINE 🍉🍉🍉

I've had something like this in the plans for a while, and I've even done it before but this post by dante aka @teethburied -

WHILE YOU ARE HERE, GO REBLOG HIS POST

- inspired me to get it together!

🍉🍉🍉 WHAT TO DO 🍉🍉🍉

Donate to any of the vetted Palestinian fundraisers from this spreadsheet by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

Donate $5 - 9 USD to request a textless gifset of any media

Donate $10 USD and up to request a gifset of any media with text

Feel free to spread your donations around to multiple fundraisers! I also will of course do gifsets for you if you have a Congolese or Sudanese fundraiser you want to support, please just send the following to me via tumblr DM and if possible forward the confirmation to [email protected]. Don't worry, I'm not gonna share your emails - I just want to make sure these are actual donations and not screenshots you found somewhere.

url and email:

fundraiser link:

proof of donation:

gifset request:

backup request:

🍉🍉🍉 WHAT MEDIA TO REQUEST 🍉🍉🍉

Anything! Any TV show, movie, music video, event, etc that you want. If I have a hard time finding something, I will probably do the backup request, so please make sure it's for a different media. Here are some examples of my gifsets, and here is a gifset I made for a mutual who donated in the past (it features a palestinian poet).

Here's some examples of requests to get inspired:

five music videos from 2024

ten lyrics from x artist or album

favorite character + fire motif

ship + lyrics/quote

scenery from x movie

astrology/signs/tarot + character

TV show + color

etc etc etc

Thank you so much and please even if you can't afford to donate right, reblog this post as well as any other vetted fundraisers you see and spread the word! Let me know if you do anything similar and I'll signal boost it too!

🍉🍉🍉 FREE PALESTINE 🍉🍉🍉

#free palestine #creators for palestine #gifsforgaza #filmgifs #pscentral #perioddramaedit #palestine #gaza genocide #palestine fundraiser #gaza fundraiser #swcreators #artists on tumblr #hotdedit #chappellroanedit #chappellsource #andoredit #swedit

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adeleidetheexplorer · 10 days

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ᰋ ׅ࣪ ꒰ tarot x zodiac signs ♡︎ a tarot reader predicting what each zodiac should expect before september ends ꒱

your sun, moon and ascendant or any significant signs on your birthchart can be use for this reading. ૮ . . ྀིა⁩

• masterlist. • tarot commission.

aries - knight of cups.

you're gonna feel confident about yourself before this month ends perhaps you may attract a lot of secret admirers or suitors. there may be someone who is gonna confess their love for you heartily, if not, you can expect an invitation from someone who is special to your heart and start dating. this can be one of your lucky months as well in case of your career, opportunities and offers will be left and right. just make sure to be open in any blessings you may receive. you can find yourself productive, inspired and creative too, you may start writing such as books and songs or play your favorite instrument again.

taurus - nine of swords.

you can't avoid stress before this month ends. the headache and neck pain are the causes of stress you are experiencing right now or may experience in the next few days. it's either you may hurt someone else's feelings or someone might hurt you emotionally. on the lighter side, you may find yourself traveling in a peaceful peace especially beaches and nature environment this can give your mind to avoid excessive thinking about your love life and work. also, there's a significant dream that may haunt you for days. the dream seems so real, clear and detailed. there is maybe someone, who might try to spread some gossip about your so be wary about sharing your ideas and opinions to others, remember that not everyone can be trusted.

gemini - nine of pentacles.

you may find yourself being independent before this month ends. what i meant is "independent" is financial and personal growth development independency especially budgeting and saving money up for the future. you may also meet new people that can help you to enhance your knowledge. you may also treat yourself a lot like you may buy a lot of your comfort foods to satisfy yourself. at work and school, your boss sees who improve a lot and do good job for their professionalism while if you are student, your teachers sees your improvement.

cancer - seven of swords.

you're gonna receive criticism and bullying for the work you are doing from other people. don't let these people take you down emotionally, take an action and call out these people. you may experience some unfairness and betrayal from people who are close to you. be careful about spending or investing your money as you may get scammed. you may also feel unworthy and insecure before this month ends which lead to low self esteem. argument with someone is coming too. there's also someone here who is stalking your account and keeping you on their tabs.

leo - the hermit.

if you are trying to enhance your spirituality there are changes and improvements about your spiritual self. you were also taking a break and cutting people off that drain your energy so much. you may also find yourself isolating yourself away from the others, you gonna what makes you happy. you may also be planning to take a break on social media before this month ends. if you are student, you gonna find yourself studying and reviewing really hard for the upcoming examination or test.

virgo - king of swords.

a father figure is gonna be significant to you before this month ends. you're gonna end up getting some good advice from this person or if not, someone else/a friend may need your logical advice. you may meet new people and these people may perceived you as someone mature, brilliant and intimidating.

libra - five of pentacles.

you might face some difficulty with your finances, it seems like you will get short in budgeting. while, when you are surrounded by your loved ones or the people who are close to you, you may feel unloved and unappreciated by them. as well as you may think that no one wants to be your lover or partner, yes you may meet new people but you may find it hard to find a best partner to meet your expectations when it comes to love so you think no one loves you. heavy rains may come so make sure to bring your own umbrella and jacket.

scorpio - strength.

you will be shocked by the influence you leave to people and in simple terms someone may try to tell the truth to you. this truth may be the one you are looking for answers for a very long time or you are waiting for this person to tell you the truth. you wouldn't believe too how much people think high of you. also, there maybe someone here is about to whammy your single life.

sagittarius - temperance.

great news for those single people, someone here is ready to fill your cup up. if you are worried about your health, spirit confirms that you are totally fine perhaps you may be trying to be healed for a very long time on a spiritual level because everything may be f*cked up on your spirituality. you may frequently sees the angel number 555 before this month ends.

aquarius - two of wands.

you might start doing a skincare routine before this month ends so keep on doing or continuing that. people may start to notice your glow up or changes in your appearance, you may also try mew hairstyle or in general dying your hair. people will notice the significant changes in your appearance, i also think that you will experimenting new ideas about your physical. a travel for job is significant too.

pisces - knight of wands.

before this month ends, you may be trying or planning to move to a new home or places. this changes the location and is gonna bring good freedom to you. you will feel very happy about its surroundings. a short trip will bring bliss and peace into your heart. there are more exciting events happening to you before this month ends. yellow, brown or orange is your significant color for this month theme.

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griefabyss69 · 6 months

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Inside The Fall

Written for @steddiemicrofic!

[ AO3 ]

'FOOL' wc: 1987 | rated: T | cw: Mention of weed

(This is the April Fool's version of the prompt, it includes all of the words needed)

Steve's used to stepping up in life or death situations, but otherwise he's directionless. He isn't expecting Eddie to be so good at helping him figure out the other parts of his future.

(Continues after the readmore)

"Step into my office," Eddie says with a guiding sweep of his arm.

"You mean your bedroom?" Steve asks just to be annoying.

Eddie's smile doesn't dim but his eyes narrow, all sharp and shit.

"Yes, well, sometimes you have to mix business and pleasure when you're waiting around on the sweet cash that's supposed to be coming in any day now," he says, shutting the door behind them.

Eddie's bedroom isn't really like the last one, though Steve had only seen that in the height of insanity, when it'd been newly deserted and then torn through in search of anti-Vecna music.

This one is neater, though still pretty chaotic. Steve can't help but like it, even though he has to wait for Eddie to clear off his desk before he can conduct his business.

"Come, make yourself comfortable," he says, gesturing at his unmade bed.

Steve ignores the thrill in his gut as he carefully sits down at the edge of it. He doesn't make a joke about cum, or about making himself more comfortable, or about Eddie offering up his bed. He's on his best behavior because otherwise he's going to go too far and Eddie's going to think he's still just a stupid jock who has bad jokes, despite all of the shit they went through together; old habits and all of that.

Once Eddie's cleared his desk, he moves to the other end of it, leaning against the wall but resting his ass against the stack of milk crates he uses for shelving. He nods at the chair, his smile all menacing as if Steve was one of his players and he was going to give him a hard battle.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he says when Steve hesitates, pulling a box out of his pocket.

Steve has to laugh a little bit, and moves over to the chair, settling in with his elbows on the desk. He has to look up to meet Eddie's eyes, and that puts another thrill in him, this one is harder to ignore.

"Don't let me win," Steve says, smirking. He knows that's not how tarot cards work, but Eddie's laugh is worth it, like he gets the joke and doesn't think he’s actually stupid.

"I'd never do that," Eddie gasps, bending to spread the cards out on the desk. They're all face down, so Steve can only admire the cool design on the back, but maybe after Eddie's finished reading into his future or whatever he'll let him look through all of them.

He explains some of what he's doing, and it seems simple enough. He asks Eddie a question, Eddie gets him to shuffle the cards, then there’s some kind of sorting thing, then he pulls a few of them.

"What would you like to ask?"

He's tempted to ask something… easy. Something that doesn't matter, and doesn't show Eddie the inside of his head. But Eddie had offered this in the first place because Steve had admitted that his thoughts have been all fucked up, he's been pretty lost these days.

"What should I do with myself this summer?"

Eddie nods, considering that as he gestures to the cards.

Steve carefully shuffles them around in a big mess, as instructed. It's kind of fun, and he takes his time before sitting back, relaxing.

"Okay, that should be all mixed up," he says, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles. He's determined to try to be comfortable, even with Eddie looming over him, his arms crossed over his chest.

He looks really good from here.

"Good," Eddie says, bends to corral the cards back into order, tapping it into neatness before he sets it down. "Split the deck in half for me."

Steve leans forward, meaning to find the exact center, but he ends up going with his gut and splits it closer to the bottom. For whatever reason, he's more curious about what's buried deeper.

"Thank you."

Eddie chews on his lip as he thinks, eyes going from Steve to the cards and back against a few times before he smiles.

"Draw three cards from here," he says, tapping the shorter stack. "Place them face down in a row."

Steve follows his instructions.

While he doesn't really believe that the cards are magic or whatever, he does believe in Eddie's ability to create an atmosphere. He's not even being dramatic or loud or anything, but he's bringing such an earnest seriousness to it that makes Steve decide to take it seriously too.

"Okay. If this doesn't answer your question at all, we can do another run of it, with more cards," he says, leaning his palms on the table. "Though usually unless a question involves a lot of people or a lot of moving parts, three is perfectly fine to answer it."

Steve starts to feel nervous, so he just nods and watches Eddie’s hands, thinks about how clean Eddie's new rings look, wondering when they'll start to get worn in by life like the last ones.

Eddie turns over the first card.

"The Knight of Swords," he says, his dimples coming out even as he tries to suppress a smile. "Other cards in this suit can be a warning, but this one is generally good."

Steve swallows. He knows he doesn't want bad news, but Eddie told him this all wasn't like, his destiny anyway. It's more of a guidance thing, like he can choose to take it's message or not.

Eddie flips the next one.

"The Seven of Wands."

He doesn't say anything else about it yet, just thinks for a moment before moving on, flipping the last one.

"The Fool."

Steve's eyebrows raise, because that doesn't sound good.

"Okay," Eddie says, leaning back against the wall, playing with one of his shiny rings. "What I'm getting for this is that you're restless, and that instead of all of the freaky monster adventures you've had, you really need a good adventure. Something new, maybe something a little different than you're used to, but ultimately you need to relax and just do what you want."

Steve looks at The Fool, about to walk off a cliff, and feels skeptical.

"Won't I end up like that?" he asks, pointing at it.

"Don't take the pictures so literally," Eddie says, and Steve has to sigh at him. "Your energy is high, like a magnet for good things," he elaborates, pointing at the Knight of Swords.

Next he points at the Seven of Wands.

"You're probably doubting yourself, dealing with a lot of fear and uncertainty, but good things are in store if you just do what you're scared of anyway. You need to remember that you're in charge of your life now."

Steve gets a lump in his throat. He hasn't ever felt in charge of his life.

"And our Fool here, what he says is that you need to pick something and try it out, whether it works or not. Do it thoughtfully, but you don't have to think that hard about it."

"Oh," Steve says. He hadn't expected to feel so… encouraged. Taken care of. "That's nice of him."

Eddie laughs, his voice quieter when he leans back down against the desk.

"It sounds like it'll be a good summer for you," he says.

After Eddie had cleaned up the cards and Steve had successfully kept himself from crying, they went off on the first nice adventure of Steve's summer.

Eddie had put a couple joints in with his smokes, and then they wandered off on a late afternoon walk, right into the shady forest, where it's not too dark yet.

"You know," Eddie begins as they walk side by side even though the path is kinda narrow. "I think you'd make a good Knight."

Steve thinks it's so not fair how much that makes him blush. He has to duck his head and grin at the ground just so he doesn't like, tackle Eddie and kiss him on the mouth and plummet off of the cliff of his own foolish behavior.

"Yeah? Do you think there'd a Knight for a baseball bat with nails in it?" he asks, looking back up to keep up his eyes on the area. Mostly it’s tree branches and nothing tougher than a squirrel.

Eddie laughs, nudges up against him as he moves, and because it's like, June, it's warm enough that he's just in his new Hellfire t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up. That means the skin of their arms brush together and Steve's brain lights right up.

"A nailbat is kind of like a sword," Eddie muses, the warm look in his eye doing irreparable damage to Steve's self control. "I might be more interested in what kind of Fool you are, though."

Steve blushes harder, mourning how it'd started to go back down just a moment ago. There's no way Eddie could've known what he'd been thinking of doing, but he knows and so do the blood vessels in his face.

"Uh, I'm not sure," he lies, shrugging. "I guess we'll find out."

Eddie beams, slides an arm around his shoulders as he says something that gets totally lost – Steve's brain has honed in on Eddie's body and only that, his feet starting to trip over themselves as he takes in the solid way they fit together.

"Easy," Eddie murmurs as he makes sure he doesn't face plant. "Is it too hard to walk this way?"

It's a little awkward, but there's no way Steve's letting him go.

"Nah, just had two left feet for a second," he says, turning his face to smile at Eddie and – Christ – he's right there. He has to go cross eyed to get a good look at him.

His gut pulls hard but he breathes through it. If anything, he knows how to be a gentleman and not just do whatever the hell he wants. Maybe his instinct for self protection is pretty busted by now, but at least he's not about to go around kissing random men just because he wants to.

Eddie laughs, and his eyes must be going cross eyed too, because they dip down to stare at his mouth instead, his long eyelashes showing off their thick, sweet curve.

"Girls would kill to have your eyelashes," he says, pleased when Eddie opens his eyes wide, shocked.

"What?" he laughs, glancing at the path before looking back at Steve. He's glad that one of them is looking out for tree roots, because Steve can't bring himself to care about anything but the feeling of Eddie's breath on his face.

"Your eyelashes, they're really long and nice," he says, less afraid to compliment him than he'd thought. "Most girls wear mascara to get theirs to look like yours."

"Oh." Eddie grins, turning his head to duck it all bashfully, and Jesus, Steve recognizes himself in that. "Thank you."

Steve can see the stones crumble from the cliff under his foot, knocking their way down the side until they disappear. He's about to do something really stupid – foolish – but his composure falls away under the force of every side of Eddie he sees.

"Eddie?" he asks, waiting until their eyes meet. "Will you kiss me?"

Eddie stumbles, barely catches himself from landing flat on his face, pulling Steve half down with him.

"Uh," he says, a nervous laugh chilling the air. "Why?"

Steve swallows hard, planting his ass on the ground so he's not halfway between straddling him or getting up.

"Because even though I'm scared, I should ask about what I want, right?"

"Oh, okay," Eddie’s voice is thin and strangled. "Sure."

It's a yes despite how Eddie looks scared now, so Steve leans in and crushes their mouths together, falling freely among the stones of his trepidation. Eddie kisses him back like they’re standing on solid ground.

#griefabyss69 writing #steddiemicroficapril #steddiemicroficaprilfools #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic

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bettyfrommars · 1 year

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I'm on Fire

Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

18+Only, mature content, angst, reader is being stalked, mention of physical & emotional abuse, biker MC, unprotected sex, sex with someone other than reader, exes are everywhere, mention of battling cancer, home invasion, tarot reading, spiritual guidance, mention of a gun, mention of taking someone's life, hurt & comfort. wc: 8.6k

Masterlist Playlist

Summary: Reader and Eddie are very much in love as the world piles on again. Both of their exes are in town, and Craig leaves a disturbing calling card to let reader know he is watching. Steve is properly introduced to Charlene in more ways than one, Astrid tries to protect Steve in the best way she knows how, and we get a peek into what Wayne "Uncle" Munson is thinking

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"Wendy let me in, I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands across my engines."

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

I'm on Fire Part 13: This Heart is Haunted

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John Gregson sent you a generous down payment for his commissioned painting, and most of it went right to the art store with you to by a roll of canvas, new paints, and brushes. Eddie went with you, and insisted on driving your car, but not before he had to adjust the driver’s seat all the way back so that he wasn’t eating his knees. He found a paint-by-numbers color pack of a dragon for Oliver, and crept up behind you, pretending to be someone else.

“Excuse me, miss? You are so fine,” he whispered in the sketchbook aisle. “Are you single, by chance?”

You checked to each side of you, feigning to look for him. “There’s this one guy I fuck from time to time, but it’s not serious.”

“Oh, is that right?” Eddie tickled your ribs, and then picked you up off your feet, munching down on the side of your neck with his teeth. “You better take it back.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you wiggled free with a laugh that seemed to echo off of the store walls, shoes squeaking on the linoleum.

Eddie wouldn’t let you carry anything on the way out to the car, and you did not miss some of the feminism that left your body in that moment as he held one of the bags in his teeth. The canvas roll was almost too long for the back seat, and you had a moment of panic, but then Eddie figured it out, clapping for himself after and taking a small bow.

The big, scary biker with the tattooed hands and the War Machine insignia kindly reminded you to fasten your seat belt, just as he clicked on his own and slipped his sunglasses on.

“I don’t know, Munson,” you grinned into the sun as he backed out of the parking space. “You’ve been such a help today, there might be some roadhead on the menu.”

He slammed the brakes and snapped his head to look at you, his hair flying, making you get the giggles. “See, now you’ll have to forget I said anything. I want it to be a surprise.”

He continued backing out, checking over his shoulder. “Surprise roadhead could kill a man, baby. You gotta give me some warning.”

So far, it had been the most chill day since before you’d been fired. You were sinking into the routine of “normal” couples, doing mundane chores together, holding hands in public, being sickeningly, adoringly head over heels for each other. And it felt really good. So good, in fact, you could almost forget for a second about all of the shit that had gone wrong, and could possibly go wrong.

Much earlier that morning as you lay curled up naked next to him in bed with your leg over him and your head on his chest, listening to a song by Mother Love Bone pour out softly from the stereo in Eddie’s apartment, he asked what you were thinking.

You’d been quiet for a while, zoning out, touching your fingertips to his as he spread them out to meet yours across the menacing bat tattoo on his chest.

“It’s silly,” you mumbled, kissing his shoulder with the side of your mouth. The morning was warm with a soft breeze blowing one of the long, blue curtains out into the room, and above the sound of the music came the rumble of motorcycles rolling into the compound, and electric drill firing in the garage across the way.

“Still,” he rested his head on yours. “I want to hear it. I want to know what goes on in that quirky brain of yours.”

As comfortable as you were with Eddie at that point, you were shy about admitting some of your deep-seated insecurities. What if you spoke them out loud and they came true? What if you started to let him know what went on in your “quirky”, anxiety riddled brain, and it scared him off?

You decided to take a chance, burying your face a bit more in the indentation of his armpit. “In the past, whenever I've felt genuine happiness, or everything seemed to be going really well, that’s always when everything would go to shit. So, I have this fear that—”

“---that you’re going to lose me?” Eddie interrupted softly, sliding his fingers down to intertwine with yours.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted. “Exactly that. Losing you, or something happening to Katie or Steve’s family. Anyone I care about.”

“The same shit happens to me in my head,” he promised. “It almost won’t let me enjoy whatever good thing is happening because I’m already thinking about how it could get fucked up. I’m always anticipating the next bad thing.”

“We are a sad pair,” you snorted a laugh.

“Hey, really though, listen to me,” he squeezed you tighter. “You’re not going to lose me, baby, fuck that. As long as we tell each other what is going on and we don’t have any secrets, no one can fuck with us. I won’t let anyone fuck with us.”

You propped up on your forearm to meet his eyes; they were bright brown and earnest. You swept his bangs to the side with your fingertips. “Well, that’s good to know because I don’t think I’d survive this level of heartbreak.”

“I won’t ever break your heart,” Eddie searched your face, running his knuckle down your cheek. “And if you break mine, I’ll probably sulk around for the rest of my life, just a shell of a man, playing songs on the street corner for loose change.”

You chuckled and scooted closer to kiss his mouth. “What are the deal breakers for you in a relationship? Something you could never forgive?”

He squinted curiously at you. “Are you trying to walk that line, sweetheart?”

“No,” you bit your lip through a smile, but then dropped your head back to the warm skin of his shoulder. “My deal breaker is cheating. I can forgive a lot of things, but never that.”

Eddie took a big inhale, thinking about this, but then he swallowed hard. “Just the thought of another man touching you, past or present, makes me see red, baby.”

There was a tension in the air as Eddie considered the crushing weight of said betrayal, and you bit at a piece of skin on your thumb, thinking about the complex inner workings of Eddie Munson.

To break the heavy silence, you started crawling on top of him, kissing his neck, working your core against his stiff morning wood. Eddie held your face and sucked at your bottom lip, running his tongue along the soft skin there, while you pressed the slick of your slit on his cock, arousal already evident.

“Would you really kill someone for me, baby?” You breathed, reminded of how he said he would kill or die for you.

“Without question,” he hissed at your wetness, reaching down to line the tip of his cock up with your entrance.

You sank down quickly, needing all of him with fluttering urgency. “When I think of someone, I will let you know,” you hushed. He cursed into your mouth and spanked your ass as you rode him, knowing that this was the only cock you would have inside of you for the rest of your life, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Back in the sunny parking lot outside of the art supply store, Eddie continued on behind the wheel, pausing for a group of people as they strolled into he store, hand on your leg, squeezing your knee as he waited. He angled the car down in front of a clothing store, on his way to exit onto the street, and had to wait for a couple more people to cross.

You weren’t paying attention, too absorbed at the time pawing through the bag of goodies in your lap, fingering the new pastels and linseed oil with glee. But Eddie’s fingers dug into your leg and gripped there in a way that made you glance over at him.

Waiting at the crosswalk, Eddie’s skin drained of color as he watched the people pass in front of the car. You followed his attention: there was an older woman, perhaps 50, two younger girls maybe ages 7 or 8, a pretty blonde girl around 30, and a woman who could have been a supermodel with long, auburn hair, a short denim skirt, and a dragon tattoo on her thigh.

Your attention rose to Eddie and his nostrils flared, blinking a few times, teeth grinding.

For whatever reason, the tension made you nervous. “Baby, what is it? What’s wrong? Do you know them?”

Eddie swallowed, patting your leg a few times, forcing a smile that did not reach his eyes. “It’s nothing sweetheart. I just remembered something I had to do later on, that’s all.”

Not even a full day had passed since you’d both agreed to never to keep anything from each other, and there he was, lying already. He knew that you could tell he was withholding something, which made it even worse. His hope at the time was, if he ignored it, maybe it would go away.

Somehow, Melanie coming into town had almost slipped his mind, until he saw her there with his very own eyes walking with Chrissy, her mom, and her twin daughters. She looked different, but also exactly the same. The difference was that he no longer found her attractive; she might as well of had rotting flesh rolling off her bones for how repulsed he was to see her there in the street. He wasn’t afraid to tell you, he just didn’t want it to be real, he wanted to ignore her until she left town, and you could live in the bliss of never being able to put a face to her.

First of all, Eddie was a horrible liar. It was not hard for you to put the pieces together and realize that he did know one of the women in that group, if not all of them. But, you took one last look at his profile, told him you loved him, and decided to let it go. For now.

----------

A few days earlier, after the incident with Inky, Steve rolled up to the house at dawn to find Robin waiting up at the kitchen table. She was having a cigarette with her coffee, and Robin never smoked. He watched her bite into her thumbnail, chew it off, and then spit it on the floor as he stepped into the room.

“What’s up?” Steve shut the sliding door behind him and locked it. “Where’s Oliver?”

Robin put her finger to her lips to ask him to ask him to keep it down. She saw how he was favoring his freshly bandaged hand, but chose not to ask questions. “Katie is asleep,” she flicked the end of her cig over the ashtray. “Oliver spent the night with Wayne.”

Cautiously, Steve clapped down into the seat across from her, wallet chain hitting first, motioning for her to slide the pack of bargain basement knockoff cigarettes over. He had his own lighter, but she shot the box of matches over to him as well. Striking the match to light his smoke, Steve bucked his chin at the manila envelope she had next to her. “What’s in there?”

Robin brushed her hair off of her face and hunched forward. “Oh it’s just a little something. Might cheer you up.”

She pushed the envelope toward him with the pads of her fingers, both sets of eyes on it as it traveled across the faux wood surface. Now Steve knew exactly what it was when he saw the label on the front but even then, he was riddled with confusion.

“How did you--?”

A part of Steve knew, even though there’s no way he could’ve had any idea where Robin went that night or what she’d said to Tina to get her to sign her rights to Oliver away. Or the gun she’d pointed loaded and proud, letting them know there were only two ways the night could end, and both involved her walking away with those signatures. The saddest part was how quickly Tina had agreed to take the money in exchange for Oliver; there hadn’t even been a glimmer of internal struggle. Robin told herself it was for the best though, and once Oliver was old enough to ask questions, he would never know about that night, or how quickly he’d been given up.

Now, they really were broke, even more than before, and without any safety net to fall back on. But, no one would ever show up and try to take their son away again without facing legal ramifications, and Robin might’ve also let her know that she wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in her throat if she ever tried to get sneaky. “If you take Oliver, Steve and I will have nothing to lose. You know what they say about not wanting to fuck with someone who has nothing to lose.”

Steve peeked inside, exhaling a long, hot breath. After sucking on his lip for a few seconds, he raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. “You’re telling me you got her to sign these and you got them notarized?”

“Katie,” Robin squinted and took another drag. The sleeve of her flannel fell down to expose the vine of an ivy tattoo on her forearm.

“She’s a notary? No shit?” he said the last part under his breath, chuckling a bit to himself.

Katie’s old job status as a notary public was a small detail that Robin had been fascinated to discover. Meeting up at a seedy motel in the middle of the night in her pajamas did not put Katie in a particularly compliant mood, but she offered her official services without too much of a fight. In fact, she had to admit later how much it had turned her on to find her girlfriend holding two people at gunpoint like that. It made her feel like she was in an episode of 21 Jump Street.

Steve rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand. The other hand, the one Astrid had cleaned and put a fresh bandage on for good measure, had just been used as a deadly weapon and pummeled a guy to the brink of death just the day before. He’d do it again in a heartbeat because no one threatened his family and got away with it. “Jesus, fuck, Rob. You know I love you, right?”

“Oh, you better,” she snorted a laugh, and then, softly,“I’d do anything for Ollie. And you. You know this,” and then she smashed the cigarette out in the ashtray. She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear the floodgates would open.

A sob hitched in his chest and he had to clear his throat. He really was on some real emotional bullshit lately and he made a fist with his good hand and banged it on the table, trying to collect himself. “Ditto.”

Robin got up and stretched her arms back with a yawn. “I’m going back to bed for an hour. You at the shop this afternoon?”

“Until late, yeah,” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the envelope. “I’m working on that chest piece for Thor.” Thor was one of the other Coffin Kings, a huge, beastly blonde dude with a long, braided beard.

Robin braced her hands on the back of the chair. “You thought anymore about going to Scott’s wedding this weekend?”

“Scott, you mean Daphne’s Scott?” Steve shook his head. “I haven’t thought about it at all, actually. There’s no way I’m going to that.”

Steve had only met Scott once at one of their barbecues, and Daphne knew Robin because her daughter and Oliver were the same age, but the last place Steve wanted to be stuck at was a wedding for two people he barely knew, or any wedding at all for that matter.

“You sure?” Robin craned her neck. “There’s going to be an open bar at the reception.”

“Nah, I got a thing on Saturday,” Steve waved his hand. “Take Katie, why don’t you?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robin worked her neck from side to side. “What do you have on Saturday?”

For some reason, a voice inside of Steve whispered that he should keep his plans vague. “Body guard gig,” he offered in a bored tone. He didn’t have to ask to know that Robin must’ve had to have paid off Tina somehow, and now they’d need some extra cash more than ever. What he wanted to do was change the subject. “Any word from Susie or Dustin?”

“Now that you mention it,” Robin scratched her cheek. “She’s due any day now and no, I haven’t heard a word. I should’ve checked in, I’ve just been out of my mind lately.”

“Dustin knows we’re in the thick of it,” Steve assured her. “We’re the first ones on the call list when she does go into labor, but I’ll give him a ring this afternoon to say hey.” He yawned, blinking his tired eyes a few times. “Should I take Ollie to the shop with me?”

“No, after Wayne drops him off, I got him,” Robin stole a curious look at Steve, knowing full well that there was something he wasn’t telling her. She was too exhausted in that moment to ask any questions as she turned to head down the hall. “Take a shower, dingus. You look like death warmed over.”

-----------

Wayne always kept his shotgun up high in a locked closet whenever the kid came to stay, but when he returned from dropping Ollie off with his parents, he stood there at the open closet looking around for a minute. He fingered through the flannels and old jackets, skidding the wire hangers along the wooden dowel, until he found the frayed denim edge he was looking for. He yanked back the line of clothes so he could pull the article of clothing out and take a look at it.

It was his original denim with the sleeves cut off, known as a cut, or Kutte, with the Coffin Kings MC insignia on the back. The matching insignia among club members were all “cut” from the same cloth. He held it up and wiped his hand down it a few times, as if to dust it off, looking over the worn and road weary patches, including the one with his nickname “Uncle” over the pocket, because he’d been an honorary uncle to so many, including Steve and Astrid.

He took it over to the mirror on the back wall of his bedroom, set the hanger on the chair and pulled the denim on over his white tee, adjusting the collar, working his shoulders through. Chemo had taken a lot of his size, and so it hung a bit loose, but the shoulder muscles were still there, and he flexed his hands, knowing they could still deftly maneuver a blade or a gun, just like the old days.

Sticking out of the side of the mirror was was a black and white photo that had been bent in half and wrinkled over time. A photo of a much younger Wayne, Astrid’s mother Evelyn with her jet black hair over her shoulder in a braid, and Steve and Eddie as little kids; not much older than Oliver. The boys wanted to be a part of the life so bad, even then, that Evie made them their own vests, complete with Munson and Harrington patches and the Coffin Kings skull on the back. Evie had her hand on Wayne’s chest in the photo, gazing up at him, and Wayne’s arm was around her shoulders, but his eyes were on Steve, his mouth open about to say something. Steve was making a face, his mouth in a grimace to expose two missing front teeth, both of his arms up, flexing to pretend he had muscles. Eddie was more stoic, his expression set without emotion as he stared into the camera, hands in fists at his sides, feet braced wide. Off to the side was young Astrid. She was a few years older than the boys, but still a baby. Wayne remembered she didn’t want to be in the photo, but Steve started acting out to get her to come over, and there she was, face slightly blurred as she tried to move away, but a smile on her face nonetheless.

Wayne met his eyes in the mirror; windows to a soul that was familiar but set in a face he no longer recognized. He thought about his panhead motorcycle collecting dust at the storage unit across town. He thought about how badly he wanted to protect Oliver from the horrors of this world, from the MC life. The boy liked to paint and draw and bake things, and Wayne didn’t understand that either, but he didn’t see the lust for danger in his eyes like he had with Steve and Eddie; Steve, especially. Like he wanted to turn the world on its head and dump it out to see how it worked. Maybe he had the love of a good mom for that, the kind of mom that stuck around. He thought about all of the things this disease had already taken from him, but it wouldn’t take this. He wouldn’t go down without a fight.

-----------

You’d stayed at Eddie’s for the past two nights in a row, and even though he would have you there with him every night if he had his way, you needed to set up your art room and take advantage of one of your afternoon off to work on John’s commission before you went back to the Hammer. You needed to stretch and frame the large canvas first, a meticulous process that took place in the garage, and then put up painters plastic around the art room so you wouldn’t flick paint around on the walls of the rental.

Eddie had brought you to work and picked you up the night before, and he took you home that next day in the tow truck so he could head to a job after. He popped in at the diner on the way to grab two coffee’s to go in tall white, Styrofoam cups. The older, married waitress there named Donna had a crush on both him and Wayne, and always gave him free stuff, for which they tipped handsomely. He came out of the diner holding the two cups up, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Things with Donna and I are getting serious, just so you know,” Eddie climbed up into the cab and passed your coffee to you, and then leaned over for a kiss once he was behind the wheel. “Black with two sugars for my lady.”

“Well, I don’t blame her one bit,” you clicked your tongue, leaning over to smell the fresh brew through the mouth opening in the lid and feel the steam on your skin, snuggling down into one of Eddie’s hooded sweatshirts. “Now I need to find an older, married boyfriend, and we’ll be even.”

What was meant to be a joke hit a little different because of the whole John Gregson situation, but Eddie snorted a chuckle as he put his cup in the holder on the dash. “You’re gonna turn me into a homicidal maniac if you’re not careful, sweetheart.”

As he got back on the main road toward your place, a glimmer caught your eye. The guitar pic on the ball chain hanging from the rear view mirror had always been there, but now there was a little, silver worry ring on the chain too, hanging flush with the red pick. It was the worry ring you usually wore on your thumb that you’d thought you had lost weeks ago. You reached up to take a better look and make sure.

“Baby, what is my ring doing here?”

Eddie took a wide turn, sucking his cheek, realizing he was properly caught red handed. “You left it on the nightstand that first time you came over,” he answered.

Your mouth fell open to goad him. “Why didn’t you tell me you found it?”

Eddie’s eyes found the ring in question where it swayed with the movement of he vehicle. “I don’t know, I think I meant to, but then I kinda liked having it in here with me. Whenever I look at it, I think about you. Something stupid like that.”

Your heart rushed, sending waves of heat through your veins. You were staring at his profile now, unable to look away, absolutely, wholly filled to the brim with love for this man.

“You really got it bad for me, don’t cha Munson?”

He offered a small nod and a shrug, tapping his thumb on the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

--------------

It was almost 9am by the time Eddie dropped you off at the duplex. Katie was already at the school, and your orange tabby cat Charlie was in a mood, so you sat on the couch with him for a bit while you finished your coffee. Although Charlie loved affection, he was normally such a chill dude, but that morning he didn’t want to leave your side even after you put his favorite gravy bits breakfast in his food dish. You had been gone for a couple nights in a row, but you always came by during the day to check on him, so it wasn’t as if he’ been abandoned. It was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

You stroked his ears back and kissed the top of his head. “Tell me, my boy, what’s on your mind?” But he only meowed, nuzzling closer, massaging his claws into your leg.

You ate some granola and dropped your bag on the floor at the end of your bed without turning the light on, heading straight into the bathroom for a much needed shower. You let the water get as hot as you could handle it, noticing the bruises on your hips for the first time from the way Eddie man-handled you during sex. You smiled against the stream of water at the memory.

Charlie was sitting on the sink with his tail curled around his feet when you opened the shower curtain, staring you down. “Close your eyes,” you told the cat as you clutched in the air for the green bath towel that was hooked over the metal dowel.

At least, you thought it was hanging there, but now you were grabbing at air because it was on the floor. You wiped water from your eyes and snapped another look at Charlie before you bent down to pick it up. “Did you do this?”

You were mumbling to yourself, wrapping the towel around your body and stepped out onto the mat. You remembered closing the bathroom door, but now it was open and you imagined that Charlie had pushed it open with his brute strength. You paused to put some moisturizer on your face, and then turned to open the door the rest of the way and face the bed, and that was when you realized there was something terribly wrong.

The bed was made; everything neatly tucked, comforter folded back at an angle, as an invitation. Had it been that way before you went into the shower? You wouldn’t know because you hadn’t turned the light on to look. The pile of clean laundry you’d thrown on the messy bed just the day before were nowhere to be found. You weren’t freaking out yet, not when you knew that Katie went into turbo cleaning fits when she was stressed, and there had been a lot going on with Robin lately. But it wasn’t like her to come into your space while you were gone and mess with your things.

A fear began to bubble inside of you as you clutched the towel tighter around your body, senses heightened as you inched over to check down the hall and in the closet. You were starting to feel so afraid that your hands got cold as shock began to set in preemptively.

With trembling fingers, you took hold of the wood knob and pulled open the top drawer of your dresser, only to jump back, covering your mouth to try and trap the scream that erupted.

Your underwear and socks were neatly folded into color coded rows. You yanked out the drawer under that and the next, only to find the same symmetry of tediously folded clothing. The second drawer fell all the way out and crashed to the carpet. In a frenzy, you dove forward and started scooping all of the clothing out of the drawers, yanking them all to the floor, making them a mess, throwing them around the room, tears running hot down your cheeks. You didn’t stop until the bottom drawer was empty; the drawer that had a few pieces of lingerie and silky pajama sets, all of it had been sorted and folded in the exact same way.

You covered your nose and mouth with your hands and sat down on the bed, taking sharp inhales, adrenaline preparing you for some kind of fight, flight, or fawn: whichever would keep you from eminent danger. There was and ocean in your ears.

You did not do this.

Katie would not do this.

The only person in the world who would ever do this

was your maniacal, neat freak ex fiance Craig.

Now you could hear a footstep creak on the wood planks in the hall just outside your bedroom and from behind you on the bed, Charlie hissed.

------------

Eddie didn’t have to take the long way back by your street with the old Chrysler on the back of the tow, but he did anyway, just because he liked being in your vicinity. Much like the “old days” when he would ride by your work, back when he thought you wouldn’t give him the time of day.

As he turned onto the street, he could see the front of your duplex on the corner, but his smile faded when he saw the front door was open. Not open just a crack, but open all the way, exposing the interior or the house, and you didn’t have a screen door, so he wouldn’t imagine you’d leave it that way on purpose. What if your cat got loose? He took a sharper turn than he should have to line the truck and pull along the opposite side of the street to park it, doing his best not to crush your neighbors garbage can, all the while keeping his eyes on the entrance, thinking maybe you’d appear and there would be some explanation.

He paused before crossing the street as a guy in a hunter green utility vehicle inched its way to the stop sign. The driver stared Eddie down as he went at a crawl, and Eddie was taken aback to be aggressively eyeballed by a stranger, but he returned the heated glare, bucking his chin. “Fuck’s your problem, man?” Eddied shouted, shrugging his hands in the air. The guy gave an open mouth smile, and made a motion of dragging his fingers across his throat, just before he stomped on the gas and flew through the stop sign, taking a right. Normally, Eddie would’ve taken more notice of the details of the license plate and whatnot, but his attention quickly returned to your open door, taking long strides to the opposite sidewalk.

Eddie looked around before he stepped inside, hand on the hilt of his knife. “Baby? Are you in here?” He asked it softly so it wouldn’t scare you. “It’s Eddie. Your door is wide open.”

His ears followed the sound of things being tossed around, and something heavy hitting the ground with a wooden crack. But then you screamed and his heart tightened as he bolted down the hall.

“Baby?” He entered your bedroom to find all of your dressers drawers open, and two on the ground, clothes scattered everywhere. You jumped when you saw him, scrambling back with a shriek, clutching a towel to the front of your body so that you wouldn’t be exposed.

You were afraid of him, or whoever you thought he was. Cheeks wet with tears, eyes wild like a feral animal caught in a trap. You backed all the way to the wall with your hand out, palm up, before you realized who it was.

“Eddie?” Relief flooded through you, and you dropped the towel, stark naked, to run into his arms, a sob choking in your throat. The feel of his denim and cool of his belt bucket against your skin helped to soothe your nerves, taking a deep inhale of the woodsy spice scent of his aftershave.

Eddie’s mind was reeling as he held you tight; one hand cupped behind your neck and the other at your back rubbing in slow circles. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You blinked hard, wishing he’d never had to see you like this, wishing you’d never have to tell him about Craig and why you were so afraid of him. You had no proof that your ex had actually been in your house, but also---you had all the proof you needed. This kind of sick fuck head game was right up Craig’s alley. But how had he found you? How would you ever get rid of him now? You didn’t want Eddie to have to get involved with this mess. Sure, Eddie was tough, but Craig was certifiable, and you were well aware that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep you in his life.

You buried your face in Eddie’s chest and wrapped your arms as tight as possible, wishing you could both run away and disappear and not have to deal with any of this.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie said in a lower octave than normal, his blood boiling. “Who did this to you?”

-----------

That afternoon on Friday, Steve went to meet the woman he’d be doing security for the next day. He gave a low whistle as he rolled up to the main gates, “holy shit,” he mumbled, pinching a smoke between his lips, lighting it while his bike idled and he pushed the buzzer to announce himself. He combed his fingers through his hair as he rode in over a blood stain that was embedded in the cement, shooting a look to the 10 car garage, wondering what kind of beauties were in there and hoping he’d get to drive one.

“Be careful,” Astrid had warned a few nights ago when he stayed at her place. She shuffled her Tarot deck and did a quick reading for him. She tapped her finger on one of the cards. “I don’t like the look of this. I think someone with a dark heart has their evil eye on you.” Without looking up at him, she continued. “I need to do a protection spell before you go.”

“Does that protection spell include you riding my face?” Steve scooted his chair forward, lunging to kiss her temple, but she shrugged him off, trying to concentrate.

Her eyes were sweeping over the cards she’d just pulled for him with a tense bundle of lines between her thick, dark eyebrows. “I’m serious Steve. It’s someone with power who wants to own you, and I think the offer will be very tempting. Think Satan in a Sunday hat.”

She pulled two more cards. Her eyes flicked from Steve to the table several times. “Are you going to some kind of formal event this weekend?”

Steve winced. “Not if I can help it, why?”

This gift that Astrid had was much deeper than deciphering the magic in a deck; she had always been able to see beyond the veil of the known world. It was her gift that kept her lonely, and more often than not, she saw it as a curse.

She sat back in her seat to look the cards over again for an unnerving amount of time. Her intuition was foggy, and she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what would go wrong yet, but there were multiple threats on the horizon and her gut told her it was time to circle the wagons.

Steve’s tongue flicked out to lick the corner of his mouth. “Don’t leave me hangin’ here, darlin’. Do I get kidnapped by a bunch of circus clowns, or what?”

Her eyes locked onto his, letting him know she was serious. “Watch your back this weekend, Stevie.”

He took her hand. “Don’t I always, sweetheart?”

He thought about Astrid’s words as he wound the bike around to park at the front door, exhaling smoke as he flicked the cigarette to the side. He slid his sunglasses up on top of his head, taking in the expanse of the entryway, heavy boots plodding up the steps. At his wrist on a thin leather band was the tiny charm and gemstone Astrid had made him wear after she dowsed him in sage smoke and said a bunch of words he didn’t understand.

Charlene greeted him in nothing but the tiniest of bikinis, a straw sun hat, and a blue and red kimono, and Steve couldn’t help but adjust himself in his jeans at the way her breasts were almost spilling out of the tiny yellow top.

She offered him a drink out by the pool under one of the umbrellas, and Steve accepted a beer.

“I should thank you again for bailing me out,” Steve took a drink, glad that his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses because he couldn’t’ take them off her heaving rack; the way the sweat trickled down her tan cleavage. A pool boy in tight, cut off jean shorts was cleaning debris from the surface of the crystal clear pool with a net at the end of a long handle.

“Anytime,” Charlene was so very charming when she wanted to be. “A friend of Eddie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve took a generous gulp and put his forearms on the table. “Yeah? You know my buddy Eddie?”

Charlene flipped her blonde hair off of her shoulder. “Has he never mentioned me? We go way back.”

“Never,” Steve said without hesitation, making Charlene frown. “Not that I remember anyway. But Eddie and I don’t talk as much anymore. We’ve been too fucking busy.”

That seemed to lighten her expression, but the thought did occur to Steve to wonder how Eddie got word to her that he was in jail? He was pretty sure he didn’t even know about what happened until the next day. But, fuck it. Who cares how she found out? He just wanted to get this bodyguard gig over with and get his cash.

They agreed on a price for an evening of Steve’s services, and then Charlene led him inside to guide him up the big, lavish staircase to a guest bedroom where she had a gray and white suit waiting for him. She unzipped the black Armani sleeve it was in and Steve gulped. His mind immediately raced thinking about how much he could pawn it for on Sunday if she let him keep it.

“My cousin is getting married tomorrow,” she perched at the end of the floral bedspread, watching him pick the suit up to admire it. “I guessed at your size, but I can have a tailor meet us here before we leave if it needs fixing.”

Sure, Steve had been a bouncer forever, and had worked as an extra bodyguard a few times for visiting celebrities, but a personal bodyguard and escort for a woman like Charlene? Never. He wasn’t even sure why she needed protection for a wedding; looking down at the suit, he felt more like a gigolo than hired muscle.

“Nah, I’m sure it’s perfect,” and then he eyeballed the wedding photo on the vanity of a much younger Charlene with some other dude. “Where is your husband these days? Why can’t he take you?”

Charlene stretched back so that she was spread out on the bed, the nipple of one breast poking out from under the thin material. Her body was toned and supple and not at all what he expected a woman in her mid 40’s to look like. “My husband leaves town a lot for work. He doesn’t ask what I do, and I don’t ask what he does.”

“Fair enough,” Steve flicked his tongue over his gold tooth, watching the way she arched her back, exposing herself to him, making him palm his erection through his denim.

“For instance,” Charlene reached behind her neck to undo the tie for her bikini top, pulling it down, letting him see the expensive titties in all their glory. “He left yesterday and won’t be home until next week.”

So, of course Steve fucked her. He came between her tits and gave her a pearl necklace made of his cum, liking the way it dripped down her throat. He fucked her ass because she begged him to, using only spit for lube, her face pressed into the mattress, until she came, and then Steve milked a few more bursts of cum onto her backside with a grunt.

He liked getting paid and getting laid at the same time. He felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for a perfect situation like this to fall into his lap.

---------

Eddie paced at the doorway, flexing his hands into fists, “so this Craig fucker came here to what? Terrorize you? Try and get you back? I will put a bullet in his skull.”

You gave Eddie the cliff notes version of your relationship with Craig while you got dressed. How you thought he was fun and charming at first, but once you moved in with him, things got scary. He wouldn’t let you talk to your friends or go anywhere without him. When you first got the courage to leave, he broke into the house you were staying at in the middle of the night and put a knife to your throat. He’d been honorably discharged from the military and used his connections in the police force to bypass the protection order you filed on him. He was emotionally and physically abusive and stalked you for two years before you were able to make it to Hawkins without much more than the clothes on your back, and Eddie was reeling with how bad he wanted to get his hands on this guy. It made him want to start going up and down every street looking for him, which was not totally out of the question.

He had to go outside on the back patio for a smoke and you followed him. You sat down in one of the camp chairs on the concrete slab facing a patch of lawn that was maintained by the owner of the duplex, but Eddie stayed on his feet. You watched the muscles in his jaw flex as he frowned into his cigarette, his thoughts going to dark and dangerous places.

From what you told him about what the guy looked like and the description of his car, that was the dude who had stared Eddie down earlier. He didn’t want to alarm you anymore than you already were by telling you that he saw him, that the fucker had probably been in your house while you were taking a shower. He couldn’t have you staying at the duplex anymore until he could make sure that creep was long gone, and by long gone, he meant he was ready to put him in the dirt. If anyone could find him, Eddie could. He had family of the Kings who worked at police dispatch, and he had eyes all over town, from other tow truck drivers to every member of several MC’s. If this guy thought he was so sneaky, Eddie could do him one better.

Eddie was in a bad mood, cracking his knuckles, thinking about how much he would enjoy hurting this guy, when he heard a sniffle and realized you were crying.

“Hey, hey,” he snubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray Katie had there for the smoking she did when she was buzzed, and got down on his knees in front of you. He wiped a single tear off your cheek with his thumb, holding your jaw with gentle force so you would look at him. “This guy, he’s not gonna get near you again, alright? You’re gonna stay with me until I know you’re safe.” He cupped his hand around your neck and pulled your forehead to his. “Hey, I love you. You trust me when I say I’ll protect you, right?”

“It’s not that,” your eyes went to the Munson’s Garage patch on the front of his light blue work shirt. You kept your forehead pressed to his because you couldn’t look him in the eye. “Craig is dangerous, baby. I mean, he’s really crazy. I don’t want you getting hurt or---”

Eddie sat back on his heels, tilting his head to meet you eyes. “And you don’t think I’m crazy? Baby. I know you get the fluffy side of Eddie but I can do dangerous and crazy with the best of them. Okay? That’s all I’ve ever done. No one is going to fuck with my girl.”

His chocolate eyes searched you, needing to know that you believed you were safe.

You gnawed at your lip, eyes dewy and bloodshot. “I just wish this wasn’t happening,” you dropped your head again, mouth jerking down with impending sobs. “I wish we could run away.”

“Sorry baby but, fuck that,” Eddie stood. “You had to run from this guy once, he’s not gonna get the satisfaction of scaring you off this time. You’ve got me now.”

He squatted again, motioning for you to give him your hand and then he held it tight, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “And Steve and Robin and Wayne, and the whole Coffin Kings MC, baby. I want you to trust me. This fucker will be sorry he ever stepped foot in Hawkins.”

You slotted your hands on either side of his neck at his jawline, pulling him in, and the salt of your tears mingled in the kiss, your mouth opening wide to take him deeper. Unexpected moans of desperation escaped both of you, hands greedy for purchase on each other’s parts. You made it back inside the house just in time for Eddie to dive his hand down the waistband of your shorts.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, fucking two fingers up inside you, stifling your cry of pleasure with his mouth.

You scrambled to undo his jeans, pushing them down his hips. “I need you so bad, baby. Fuck me.”

There was no time to make it to the bedroom, you broke the kiss only long enough to bend over the kitchen island, shorts down, arching your ass up. Eddie swiped his cock along your glistening core only once before burying it inside of you groaning at the sensation. “Holy fuck, I love you,” Eddie murmured, proceeding to fuck his entire length inside, pulling your slit apart with his thumbs so that he could watch himself enter you.

You bucked back against him, meeting his urgency, biting your lip through hungry whimpers. Eddie shoveled his hand around the front of your throat and pulled you back, choking you with soft pressure while he other hand braced at your hip and he fucked you hard. He preferred to look at you when he was about to cum, but the two of you were frantic, and he was already close. Clinging to the counter, the wet slapping sounds of Eddie stretching you out were about to throw you over the edge. His hand moved from your throat to your mouth, dipping inside for you to suck them.

Eddie’s hips locked onto you as he came, and the sensation made your walls flutter, gripping him in a way that extended his orgasm, cursing, both of you crying out, able to forget about the worries of the world if only for those precious moments as you rode the high.

---------

At a decent chain Motel by a truck stop near the highway, Craig Ludlow paid for a week in advance and sat in the dark puffing a cigar by the window with the curtain tightly closed. An episode of The Twilight Zone was on the TV, and it was the only light but for the golden glow from the bathroom in the hall. On the table next to him was a razor blade on a mirror with white powder residue, a shot glass empty of its Jim Beam, and a handgun.

There had been an ugly landscape painting on the opposite wall, but he took it down to make room for his work. There was a big cork board there now, a place for all of the information he had on you and your little biker friends. Steve’s mugshot was up there, along with one of Eddie from 10 years earlier. Information on Wayne, Katie, the Velvet Hammer, every person or place you’d touched since you’d been to town. Somehow you’d slipped through his fingertips, and oh god, how he had missed you. Being a part of your life and knowing what you were up to was a part of who he was now, and he’d been feeling lost without it.

He planned use his connections to get in with Chief Hopper and make sure your new biker boyfriend had the law down his throat around every turn. Why was it so much to ask for you to let him love you? Your house was a mess, your bed not even made. Nothing in your drawers had been folded. It was obvious that you needed him and missed him and just didn’t know how to ask. You had always been such a prideful, silly goose.

A girl named Shari was working the night shift at the motel when she noticed, not for the first time, how odd the guy who checked into room 11 was. Shari happened to be the old lady of a Coffin Kings member named Jester, and she would tell him all about it, including the make and color of the SUV he drove, over the phone when he called to check up on her that evening. Coincidentally, War Machine had just let everyone know to keep an eye out for a creep of the same description who was stalking his girl. Jester headed over to make sure Shari was okay and waited in the shadows near the truck stop on his chopper, watching the lights from the TV flicker in room 11, keeping an eye on this guy so he could follow if he took off. Keeping him in his crosshairs to see if he should take care of this guy himself before he passed the word on to Eddie.

PART 14

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thank you so much for reading, my loves! Don't forget to tip your favorite stories/writers by commenting and/or reblogging ❤️

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @eighty6babyyy @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer @manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare @chaoticgood-munson @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @falling-solar-system @secretdryrose @kurdtbean @whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @dandelionnfluff @lilpotatobean2 @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales @layla-loves-ed @rhirojo

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson series #I'm on Fire #Eddie Munson smut #biker!Eddie #biker!Steve #biker eddie munson #older!Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #90sau #steve harrington #Eddie Munson fanfic #Spotify

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sailoryooons · 1 year

Note

i’m salivating over my first ever haliween ahhhhhhhggggjtjekwldlcjwkwnf. anyways, i trust you implicitly, so i’m gonna do the random thing:

milky way + princess peach + the craft 👁️👄👁️

(ily 🦐)

❀ Pairing: Witch!Yoongi x witch!f. reader

❀ Summary: When the red string of fate appears around your ankle, you have twelve days to find your fated partner or die. That’s how the spell works - that’s how fate has always run Her business. There is one, very inconvenient witch who keeps getting in your way, though, and you might just kill each other before your mark does.

❀ Word Count: 4,421

❀ Genre: Magical AU, Fate AU, a bit of angst, a bit of crack

❀ Rating: SWF

❀ Warnings: Talk of death!!! Reader thinks that she is going to die this entire fic, so she thinks about dying/makes jokes about dying a lot. At the end of the story, there are moments where she is sad and there are hints of depression because she is dying, but it’s not super intense and heavy. Language, Yoongi, and reader are both very stupid, the communication skills in this friend group are at ZERO.

❀ Published: Tuesday, October 3

❀ A/N: This is my first request filled for Haliween and I am so excited! This was so much fun to write and honestly, I was super inspired by Jade's ability to infuse humor in writing, so this is absolutely an ode to Jade. Inside my Halloween bag for you is… Yoongi, witches, and fate! This actually might be one of my favorite drabbles I’ve written all year if not all the time and I sort of wish this was a full one-shot with angst but I think it works sooo well this way. UNEDITED.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Haliween Requests |

It’s raining the day that the red string of fate scorches your ankle. The pain is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, sending you to your knees as you scream. At first, Jimin thinks you’re dying. He drops his mug of tea, rushing over to you as the porcelain shatters, dropping to the ground to pull you up by the shoulders.

You’re prone for a moment, eyes rolled back, voice straining as your entire body tenses, hellfire licking through you.

Then it’s gone. Like it never happened.

The mark leaves you panting in Jimin’s arms, whimpering lightly as you pull the leg of your jeans up with trembling hands to reveal a singular scarlet circle around your ankle. The mark tingles, leaving behind the memory of sudden pain, now cool to the touch.

“Holy shit,” Jimin whispers, staring at the mark. His eyes are wide when he looks down at you, lips trembling. “Twelve days.”

Twelve days. Twelve entire days to untangle you’re new fate and follow it to the witch meant for you, your other half. Twelve days to find them and meet your magical half. To be whole again.

Because in the world of witches, there are some of you born not complete. Some of you have another soul out there, burning with some of your magic. And when that magic is ready to become one, it tries to kill you.

Twelve days to reunite it.

Or, twelve days until you die.

DAY ONE

The day is a waste. Impeding doom does not inspire confidence in the probability of finding the witch who is supposed to be your other half. Hoseok offers a tarot spread, flipping cards and trying to untangle the path that will lead to your savior.

He frowns as he looks at his deck. The images and text on them are nearly faded entirely, a heirloom of his coven passed down through generations of family members. Hoseok knows them by touch, feel, and energy alone. Could read them in the dark, if he wanted to.

Hoseok glances up where you’re curled on the couch in a blanket, doing little spell work to figure out where your mystery half is. “Perhaps you should have Namjoon read tea leaves instead,” he offers. Hoseok shuffles the deck and puts it back in a wooden box. “The cards want you to figure it out yourself. Tea is less judgmental, perhaps.”

DAY TWO

Tea is not less judgmental. You stamp out of the tea shop, feeling stormy, energy crackling like lightning. Namjoon, unable to help, mentioned that perhaps you should seek help from Jungkook, who often sees the future in his drawings. It’s what led him to Jimin, after all.

Someone crashes into you, knocking you off balance. You yell as you go, too lost in thought to catch yourself with magic before you’re topping into the street and a puddle. Cursing, you look up at the stranger who has knocked you into a dirty hole filled with water.

“Are you serious?” you demand, gesturing to your legs as water seeps in. “Watch where you’re going!”

The man in front of you is covered in coffee. He looks up at you dripping in dark liquid, the front of his white shirt ruined and sticking to his chest. If you weren’t so impossibly angry, you might think he was cute. Long, black hair tucked behind his ears, keen feline eyes, a rosy mouth in a natural pout.

But you don’t think it’s cute. Especially when he says, “Me? You’re on the wrong side of the sidewalk!”

“There are no sides to the sidewalk!”

“Of course there is! If you’re walking north you should walk on the inside of the sidewalk, if you’re walking south, you should walk on the outside!”

“That makes no fucking sense!”

“Says the girl still sitting in a puddle instead of getting up and drying herself off!”

You make an angry sound, shoving yourself up from the puddle, sopping wet. “Have the day you deserve,” you snarl at him.

“Have fun with your wet pants.”

DAY THREE

Day three is spent at the library looking up ways to break the red string of fate around your ankle. There are tombs and tombs of ancient texts on the various iterations of the spell through different cultures and religions, but so far you have nothing to show for it.

Huffing and tossing another useless book onto your useless pile, you walk back to the dark stacks of the magical section of the library reserved for members of the covens in the city. It smells musty and dusty in the back, the air dank with the promise of rot. You make a mental note to tell Jisung at the front to please use an air freshening spell.

As you turn the corner of the shelves, someone makes you pull up short. The man from the day before is in front of you, flipping through a book. You blink in surprise. A witch. It shouldn’t surprise you - most of the townsfolk here are magic in one way or another. But it makes less sense that he was so angry about spilling his coffee when he could just whisk his fingers in the air and put it back in the cup.

You’re angry all over again, balling your fists in the aisle. You have half a mind to flick your fingers and through a book from the shelf at him, but the tome in his hands makes you pause. It’s the book you’re looking for.

The man snaps it shut and tucks it under his arm, continuing to look through the shelves.

“Um, where are you taking that?”

He turns with a soft expression, eyes wide. Then he sees you and immediately scowls, nose scrunching. “Oh. You. If you came here for new pants, the Target is across the street.”

“I’m looking for that book.”

“Well, this book is coming with me.”

“What do you need it for, huh?”

His face is impassive as he blinks twice. “For a bonfire, thank you.”

With that, he spins on his heel and walks down the aisle. You step after him, but he snaps and you feel a sharp tug in your stomach, like a pull in another direction. You blink and suddenly find yourself several aisles over, making you scream in anger.

“Did you just teleport me?!”

DAY FOUR

Spent listening to Hey Jude on repeat. And dumplings. So many dumplings that you may not make it to day twelve.

DAY FIVE

What a good day. You’ve made no progress, but you head home with a smile on your face nonetheless. Even though you will surely expire when the red string of fate eats you from the ankle up in seven days, you have at least one good memory before your untimely demise.

Autumn hangs cooly in the air. Your scarf is wrapped snuggly around your neck as you skip home, fresh on the memory of the Puddle Pusher’s face when you bought the last of the black flame candles at Shadow’s earlier that day.

Give me at least one, he’d said to you. You don’t need five.

Well, what if I mess up? You’d asked.

Then you’re a shitty witch.

Well, that had offended you, so you bought the white flame candles too, just in case. Bags full of candles for your little ritual, you skip home to try another trick in breaking the scarlet mark around your ankle. You’re not hopeful but you are happy to rub the salt in with the Puddle Pusher before your sweet farewell to the world.

Even if he did look very cute today.

DAY SIX

Morale is low. The ritual from the night before utterly failed and set off your sprinkler system in your apartment. As you spend the morning blasting hot gusts of wind from your hands and levitating several items throughout the home to air dry, you wonder what it will be like at the end.

The red string of fate is such a rare thing. When you were little, you may have thought it was romantic. Knowing there was someone out there for you that was your twin flame, your other half. A person connects to you by the cosmic power of the universe. Whose spellwork with your own could make you unstoppable.

Now you think it’s stupid. You don’t need anyone else to make you complete. You’ve learned that over several failed relationships and the lackluster dating life of this town. There’s no reason for you to need to follow this stupid mark to find the one person you can no longer live without.

Love is not worth dying for. If it is even love. You cannot imagine that the magic that flows through the world unseen but felt is so all-seeing and powerful that it knows who you should be with. That it can tell you what to do.

Day six sucks. And you spend it crying. Alone and forgotten, without your other half.

DAY SEVEN

Jungkook sifts through his drawings, chewing his lip. The hum of tattoo guns buzzes like a hive of angry bees behind you. You ignore the awful music blaring through the speakers and the man screaming behind the piercing curtain getting his nipples pierced.

“Don’t you have something for that?” you ask, jerking your thumb at the sniveling. “The man sounds like you’re castrating him.”

“Oh, that? Some people like the pain. However, it is Jin so he is actually hating every second of it.” You make a face but Jungkook doesn’t notice, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dude. I don’t see or feel anything in any of these recent drawings of mine. I wish I could be of better assistance. There’s this guy who might be able to help, though. Taehyung?”

“Tae-who?”

“Here.” Jungkook scribbles an address in truly illegible handwriting. “Visit him on the full moon in..” He looks at his phone and makes a face with yikes written all over it. “Five days.”

“Jungkook, in five days I will be hours away from-” You make a choking sound and roll your eyes back into your head. When you look back at Jungkook, he’s not amused. “Death. Dead. Está muerto.”

“Yeah, I got that. Not funny.” He shoves the paper in your hand. “Look, he’s a really powerful seer. Just go.”

“Think he can tell me what to wear as I croak?”

Jungkook is still not amused by your jokes. He looks around you as the shop door chimes, lifting a hand. “Hey, Yoongi. Be with you in a second.” He looks back at you. “Have you considered asking around for anyone who has had one show up recently? It might help, you know?”

“No thanks. Don’t need any weirdos trying to get into my skivvies by lying about it. Thanks, though. I’ll look into this.” You lift the paper.

Turning around to leave, you stop dead in your tracks. Yoongi is standing near the front entrance of the door. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a flannel shirt, his hair tucked under a beanie. He looks soft, especially when his attention isn’t on you and glowering.

For a moment, you’re not mad at him and you don’t hate him on principle. You just admire the way his nose is a little bit red from the cold outside, and his general sense of wonder is… innocent. Gentle. Kind.

When he turns to look at you, as though he feels your staring, his face morphs from cherubic to devilish, curling his lip up at you. Your momentary lapse of judgment vanishes. “Here to get a tattoo of Number One Puddle Pusher?”

“I didn’t push you.”

“Who's to say you didn’t? Do you have CCTV evidence?”

Yoongi scoffs. “I should be checking CCTV to see if you’re stalking me.”

“Me? Stalking you? I got here first.”

“Do you have CCTV evidence?” he mocks, making a face.

With a huff, you blow by him, turning to Jungkook who looks between the two of you with wide eyes and a dubious expression. “Make his tattoo ugly.”

DAY EIGHT

Yoongi as it turns out is new in town. Instead of spending day eight doing like Jungkook suggested and putting out an APB on Facebook Marketplaces and Craigs List, you spend it looking up your mysterious mortal enemy only to find that… he’s entirely normal.

Most of the covens in town have a long history of ancestry connected to the town’s creation. Yoongi seems to have no such thing, having only moved there a year ago. You’ve never come across him, though it seems you have plenty of friends in common.

From his social media, you can tell only two things about him: he likes cats and takes the worst dad pictures. By worst, you mean silly little photographs of things you can only see a father taking. Somehow the angle is always just wrong or the captions are so simple that you find yourself smiling.

And then you remember whose photos you’re looking at and you fix your face with a scowl.

Tossing your phone onto the couch, you curse Yoongi. The Puddle Pusher.

DAY NINE

Spent crying.

DAY TEN

Spent crying even harder. And spent looking at Yoongi’s cat on social media, only to accidentally double tap and scream as you unlike the photo, and throw your phone across the apartment in terror.

You cry more after. And add buy a new phone on your to-do list.

DAY ELEVEN

You’re going to die. It’s inevitable. You spend the evening watching the stars with Jimin. You let Jungkook tattoo a smiley face on your foot. You drink lots of hard cider, and you fall asleep in a bed that feels too empty and the knowledge that you’ll no longer have to worry about filling it.

DAY TWELVE

Taehyung lives in the middle of Fuck All Nowhere. While you might not find that exactly on the map, it is only somewhat easy to find his creepy, draconic estate outside of town. Getting out of your car, you look up at the spiring mansion, sure that you’re going to see bats flying out of the top like an episode of Scooby Doo.

Alas, there are no bats there to greet you in your final few hours. "Where are the bats, dude?" you ask, walking up the lawn.

The house is something out of a creepy cartoon. Old, wooden stairs creek under your feet as you climb them. The front porch has a severe lean, making you take a precarious step toward the massive front door.

A knocker in the shape of a snarling gargoyle greets you. Tentatively, you reach your hand toward it. Just before your fingers brush the knocker, the door swings inward, creaking and shuttering as it does. You snatch your hand back and take a step away from it, heart racing.

No one is in the entryway. You stick your head inside, looking at the maximalist disaster that is the interior. There are gauche tapestries all over the walls and exotic, loud wallpaper. Statues, busts, and other carvings cover every surface, and the faint smell of cardamom hangs in the air.

“Hello?” you call. Your voice seems to echo in the house.

You hear footsteps. Your heart rate picks up, hoping to see the infamous Taehyung you’ve come for. Except you don’t, feeling confusion first followed by irritation. Of course Yoongi is standing in this strange home that’s full of popping energy and static.

“What are you doing here?” you demand.

Yoongi frowns. “You’re not Taehyung, right?”

“No! Do I look like him?”

“I don’t know what he looks like.”

“Well. I’m not.”

Both of you have a silent standoff, staring at the other. Yoongi looks tired, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair a little greasy. You feel a momentary pang of sympathy for him, feeling the same sort of restlessness and weariness tugging at your edges.

“What are you here for, then?” you ask if only to fill the silence stretching between you. “And why are you inside?”

“It’s cold outside. And the house felt like it wanted me to wait inside.”

“Okay. Well.”

He crosses his arms. “I’m here because I’m… looking for something.”

“Something that requires black flame candles?”

“No.” He looks you up and down. “What are you here for.”

“Trying to break something.”

He hums.

Eventually, you both sit down in the sitting room. Neither of you say anything to the other, sitting in… almost comfortable silence. You sit and stare at the clock on the wall, watching your time slip away.

Your knee starts pouncing. You take out your phone, spamming Jungkook. Trying to get him to call Taehyung, perhaps. He doesn’t answer, your nerves unsettling your stomach. Eating away at you.

An hour slips by. Then another.

Sweat starts to collect on the back of your neck. Each moment the minute hand tick tick ticks, you lose another minute. Another five. Another ten.

You don’t feel sick or deteriorating, but you know that as it reaches ten at night, you only have two hours left. A collection of 120 minutes for the rest of your life. Barely enough to drive back into town and say goodbye to your friends. To anyone who cares.

Overwhelmed with the impending sense of doom, you suddenly stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans. Inside feels insufferable, so full of tension. You need to breathe, to maybe look at the moon for a little. To… feel the wind for the last moment, now that it’s here.

“Where are you going?”

“Outside. I - um. I don’t think he’s coming and I… want to be outside.”

Yoongi nods. “Mind if I join you?”

The question is gentle. Soft. Like that time you saw him in Jungkook’s shop, face so gentle and kind, round and soft with wonder and something like hope. It urges you to nod, reserved to not spend the next two hours hating this man who has made the last twelve days of your life annoying.

Instead, you’ll spend it with this man who doesn’t know you, but who has colored the pages of your life for the last two weeks.

It’s strange. Before that day outside of Namjoon’s shop, you didn’t know who this person was. Now, you know a little bit. Not a lot, but enough.

There’s a hill behind Taehyung’s house that you walk out to. You both sit on it quietly, looking out at the world. This far out in the country, the stars blanket the sky in a thrilling map of constellations and sparkling lights. It’s beautiful. Nice.

A general melancholy seems to hang around Yoongi. You don’t know what it is he is looking for, but you sort of hope he finds it in the way that you’ve been unable to. If you have to lose tonight, you think that someone ought to win.

“What was your favorite moment of your life?” Yoongi asks out of nowhere. You glance at him to see him staring out at the sky, eyes unseeing. His fingers pull at the grass by his shoe, uprooting them absently. “Or something that you just remember being a really good memory?”

You pull your knees to your chest and set your chin atop them, thinking. You’ve had so much time to think this week about your favorite moments or the best parts of your life before it’s gone, and yet, you hadn’t thought too much about it.

“Maybe…” you grin, eyes unfocusing. “The first time I ever listened to Hey Jude. I had never listened to the Beatles and Jimin had it on vinyl and it was one of the last days of summer when we were younger and he put it on… we danced to it and had the coldest lemonade and those red white and blue popsicles. It was right after a breakup and… it was the first time I felt unfettered, reckless joy.”

You can remember the sweetness of the lemonade, the sticky fingers from the popsicle. The sound of the record, the way it hissed into silence at the end of the track, just the crackling vinyl chasing you out of the end of summer.

Turning to look at Yoongi, you ask, “What about you?”

“The first time I heard a piano. I was on vacation with my parents but I got lost at the hotel and I found this piano in the lobby. This guy was playing it so I just sat down next to him and listened. It was… I wasn’t afraid anymore, and I just waited there until the front desk told my parents they found me.”

You grin, feeling a sweet curl of joy spreading through you. “Do you play now?”

“Mhmm. I wish I had played more in the last few weeks. I was … busy.”

“Hmm. I wish I had done a lot of things recently. Instead, I fixated on something unchangeable.”

Silence falls between you. You check your phone for the time. You realize that there are only fifteen minutes left, your heart clenching painfully. You place the phone face down in the grass, sucking in a deep, shaking breath.

“You should go,” you murmur gently. He looks up at you, brows raised. “I uh - need to do something that I think should be done alone.”

He nods. “Me too.” Gets up slowly, dusting off his pants. Yoongi starts to turn away and hesitates, looking down at you. You look up and think that Yoongi might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Soft face against the cosmos, dark eyes that are swirling and unreadable. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He lifts a shoulder. “For being a surprise in my life, I suppose. A change of pace.”

“You too.”

With a little wave of his hand, Yoongi walks down the hill back toward the house. You watch him go until he vanishes around the front and you are left alone, the sound of the crickets around you.

Turning back to the empty hills, you exhale. In a way, you’re okay. You think that maybe Yoongi is right - he was an unexpected and at times vexing surprise in your life, but it was fun. A least a little.

Gently, you lay back in the grass. You don’t know if it’s going to hurt when you go, but you want to be lying down just in case. Your hands tremble in the grass and you feel your throat constrict with the urge to cry. Not because you’re alone, not because you’re afraid, but because you think maybe… you should have just enjoyed life a little more than trying to defeat it the last two weeks.

A lifetime of forcing things into submission and for once, you couldn’t do it.

The minutes tick by. You try to calm your breathing. There’s no escaping the red string of fate now. Without your other half, you will cease to exist. There is no more road for you.

You think of the sweet taste of lemonade. The chorus of Hey Jude. The breeze coming in through the open door and the scent of the honeysuckle climbing the awning. You smile, feeling a tear slide down your face.

Shutting your eyes, you breathe in deep. You are ready.

DAY THIRTEEN

You frown. You keep breathing. You take in another deep breath, thinking that maybe you just… timed it wrong. Settling in, you keep yourself calm, fingers drumming on the floor. Any second now you’re going to die. The life force will flee your body. You will perish. Ashes and dust and all of that.

It doesn’t come. You crack an eye open, looking at the starry sky. The stars are still hanging and the moon is still shining. Suddenly you wonder if you’ve already died and this is the afterlife. Would you even know if you were dead?

Sitting up, you grab your phone and look at it. If there are phones in the afterlife, yours shows that it’s past midnight.

“Huh?” you whisper, tapping the screen. It looks real. Feels real. “Why am I not dead?”

Footsteps behind you make you look over your shoulder. Yoongi is storming up the hill, a look on his face like wonder and fury or something weirdly in between.

“What were you doing at Namjoon’s shop that day we ran into one another?”

“What?”

“The shop!” he yells, throwing his hands up, panting as he crests the hill. “What were you doing there?”

“Getting… a fortune read. Sort of.”

“And the library?”

“Researching how to break spells.”

“And Jungkook?” Yoongi’s voice trembles. You don’t follow, but you shrug a shoulder. “Same thing as when I went to Namjoon’s. Trying to use the future to help me find something.”

Yoongi crouches down and reaches for your ankle. You pull it back, yelling, “Hey, hands off, weirdo! I’m not into foot stuff!”

He grabs your jeans and pulls the hem up, despite your kicking. When he reveals the red mark around your ankle, he abruptly sits down and stares at you. You yank your foot from his grip, ripping your jeans back down and glaring. “What gives? Yeah, I have a red string of fate, whatever.”

Mutely, Yoongi sticks his foot toward you. He has on dirty Converse with gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and jeans on. “I’m more of a Hubba Bubba myself,” you note, eyeing his foot. “But thanks?”

“My ankle.”

You sit up straight, heart racing. Yoongi had been going to Namjoon that day. And then at the library. Even visiting Jungkook. And buying items for… breaking a spell at the magic shop. Now, he’s here, for a reason unbeknownst to you.

And you’re not dead.

You’re not dead.

Slowly, you reach over Yoongi’s foot. Your fingers are trembling as you grab the soft material of his jeans, fingers weak. Steeling yourself, you pull gently to reveal Yoongi’s ankle. You expect to see creamy, smooth skin, unmarked and well… ordinary.

Instead, you see a single red ring scarring his skin. A perfect red string of fate marking his skin forever, telling him that he belongs to someone. That someone equally belongs to him. That there is someone out there in the world just as stubborn to accept fate, just as cranky when inconvenienced, and who loves music just as much as you do.

You’re not dead, and Yoongi is looking at you with a smile that holds the world.

You’re not dead, and you share loud, joyful laughter with your red string of fate partner for the first time.

DAY 20

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, leaning back and self-satisfied. “I saw them finding each other at my house so I just left. Let fate do its thing, ya know?”

You roll your eyes. “Your house is fucking creepy but not in a cool way.”

Yoongi laces his fingers with yours. “Yeah man, where are the damn bats?”

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